Merry Little Christmas
by C. Sahdi
Summary: A short glimps into Hermoine's life after Hogwarts, the War, and, most importantly, Harry's death. Even through so much pain, she finds contentment in her new life during the holidays.


_Disclaimer: I, Cari C. Sahdi, do not claim to have any ownership rights to the magnificent story line or characters of J. K. Rowling's spectacular Harry Potter series. I am only in possession of that which is my own. Thank you._

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Snow was falling thoughtlessly out side the window of a tiny cottage outside of London but noise was erupting from within it. The screams of small children and a yowling dog could be heard clearly and still it did not disrupt the stillness of the night.

Inside, a petite woman stood by the warmth of her stove, surveying a warming pot of milk. Her hair was the color of pine bark, pulled back sloppily in a twist. Small tendrils framed her neck and face giving her a soft look. Turning to the window and away from the screams, the woman peered out into the winter wonderland. Her eyes contrasted the softness of her hair. Vivid hazel eyes scanned the peaceful landscape with an intelligent, almost raptor like gaze. The women sighed with a weary contentment.

A small buzzing sound added to the muffled commotion. The former Hermoine Granger pivoted back to her stove, giving her egg timer a tap and pouring the scalding milk into a mug full of cocoa powder. Giving her hot chocolate a few twirls with her spoon, she carefully began her trek. Nonchalantly, Hermoine made her way through the dining room, the shrieks of little boys growing louder with every step.

She peaked into the next room, catching a glimpse of a scene that swelled her chest with happiness. Inside, she could see her husband wrestling with her two little boys, pillows and blankets flying every which way. She suppressed a laugh as their yapping chocolate lab tried to tussle with the trio but was continually tossed out of the heap.

So much had happened to her over the years. To everyone really. As Hermoine watched her small family, she found herself floating backwards into the past. So much of what she had once had was gone. Her first love had been torn away from her... Her family, her work, her dreams. So much pain. So much grief. Sometimes she wondered how she ever got through it all.

The war had not truly started until a year after she had graduated from Hogwarts. Both Ron and Harry had started Auror training to prepare for a battle against the Dark Lord's hordes. Hermoine had decided to peruse her dreams of Ancient Ruins and deciphering long forgotten codes and riddles. Shortly after graduation though, Hermoine had found herself in a pool of sorrow. Her muggle parents had been subject to a Death Eater attack. She could still remember their screams as she came home one night, watching an eerie green light pour from the windows of her home. She cried for hours by their dead bodies until Harry had found her the next morning and carried her back to his flat. There she staid for the next month in a horrified trance before deciding to dedicate her life to annihilating the Death Eaters.

She thought she could not have been more revolted ever again.

A grim smile crossed Hermoine's face, remembering how much worse things had gotten. A rage had consumed her life then as she began working furiously with in the Order to make a difference. Sadly, she had been to late almost every time.

She could see the pictures flashing in her head again, snippets of memories trying to escape their confinements. She saw the Forbidden Forest engulfed in flames, sinister shadows marching across the quiditch field, the Great Hall of Hogwarts in rubble and priceless paintings and possessions ruined. The next images that came almost over took her: Bodies lying in the shambled buildings, broken wands, and ash littering the halls that once contained secret headquarters and ecstatic students.

Small tears trickled down her face as the pictures kept coming. Hermoine shuddered as she remembered the worst of it all. Harry, Ron, as fully trained Aurors, and Hermoine, who was preparing for her tests, had been lured to the ancient Riddle Manor by Lord Voldermort himself. There, she remembered, Harry had his final duel. She clung to the tattered memories of blinding lights and harsh voices. Everything in the real world had dimmed to her recollections. Her children were suddenly gone and she was sitting the drawing room of the Riddle's decrepit house watching her raven haired lover battle for his life and being powerless to help him.

They both destroyed each other that night. There had been a silence after the battle had ended- an utterly pure silence that echoed through the dwelling. Next, she could hear a sound. High pitched and horror-struck. Her own voice reverberated through her skull and then she remembered darkness. The had curse had ended that night, the dark side fell apart afterwards but Hermoine, at that moment, could not justify spilling her lover's blood to save the world.

Slowly she came back to reality, shoving the slideshow of memories of Harry's death away. She had slowly begun to heal but there was still a long bit of road she had to travel. She shuffled more memories away. It was the holidays, she had no right to be living it what could have been.

Her life now had turned a full one-hundred-eighty degrees around from what she thought it would have been. She married another man, had his children. Instead of becoming an auror, she watched the last of the Death Eaters being locked away and now owned her own bookshop in Diagon Alley called Tragedian. So much had changed, yet she was still content with the life she was living.

She glided further into the small room to an long forgotten muggle record player she had inherited from her parents. Gently running her fingers over the primordial equipment, and decided to dig out one of her favorite records.

She noticed that the screaming had died down, and glanced at her little boys and their puppy dozing on the floor in front of the fireplace. Hemoine began to wonder how long she had been lost in the past when her gaze found her husband who had taken to sitting on their sofa, halfway twisted around so he could watch her. By now, he knew exactly what she was thinking and a soft grin came to his face as she noticed him. Laughing silently, she shook her head at him, and pulled a Christmas record out of its sleeve and set it on the player.

Faint strains of music floated through the room, reflecting the mood she had sunk into. She hummed along with the song as the rich lyrics poured from the speakers.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,  
Let your heart be light  
From now on,  
our troubles will be out of sight_

She walked over the love seat with her hot cocoa, carefully stepping over her sleeping children. Ronald Weasley scooted into a corner and opened his arms up to comfort his wife. Hermoine snuggled into his chest as they watched their boys, Arven and Charles. Ron kissed the top of her head gently as she set her mug down.

"You know I'm always here for you, don't you 'Moine? I know it's been hard but--" Hermoine cut him off, "Of course I do. You were always there for me Ronald. And I for you." The couple shared a private smile and turned their attentions back to their sleeping angels.

The fire light glinted off their hair, making Ron's turn an even fierier shade of red, which was almost identical to his sons'. The boys had inherited most of Ron's looks but both shared their mother's clever eyes and wide smiles.

Hermoine stared at her little boys who were growing up much to fast. Joyfully, she looked down at her own stomach and the slight bulge which was hardly visible. She knew that her third child was already growing there and her maternal instincts told her that she would have her little girl at last. Ron caught her train of thought and placed another kiss on her brow, not needing words to tell her how thrilled he was. The last chorus of the song pulsed through the room and Ron began to whisper the words in his beloved wife's ear, "_Through the years we all will be together, if the Fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough and have yourself A merry little Christmas now._"

The words made Hermoine melt and she knew that no matter what had happened, this is where she belonged now, in the arms of her dearly loved husband, watching over the products of their love. Her hope and lively hood rested with them now and even if she could change what had happened, she was not sure if she would give her new life up for anything.


End file.
